The winter of disease

Everyone told me that sending Arthur to daycare would mean a string of illnesses. They told me, but I didn’t quite internalize it.

On day three of “school” he developed a serious, heartbreaking fever. Since then, we have all suffered from an array of infections and viruses. He’s had a runny nose since November. Thank the cherubs for grandmas!

Sick baby

Add pregnancy to this cocktail and you get a potent recipe for misery. With so much help from JF, I (mostly) managed to keep functioning through baby building, full-time work, raising a toddler, caring for Odie, and the barrage of colds. All of my relationships have suffered – I’m sorry!

Three weeks ago, my body just decided to stop fighting. A day after Arthur vomited all over his bed, JF and I both felt strangely dizzy and nauseous. By 4 p.m. I couldn’t hold down food or liquid. By 2 a.m. my body had been rejecting water for about 10 hours. I was severely dehydrated and went to the hospital where I was put on an IV and strapped to baby heart monitor.

Breakfast of champions

The following days were a haze of vomit, Pedialyte, intermittent work hours, and trying to keep my family alive. Then (just as I was beginning to hold down non-bread substances), it was mucus city. I had a nasty virus that lasted about seven days. Earlier this week I thought I was recovered. Nope! I have a sinus infection. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire, I have no taste buds, and I’m running out of Kleenex.

Today, I finally stopped being an idiot and went to see my doctor. I’m on the road to regaining what little stamina one has during the third trimester of pregnancy… I hope. Having survived this assault on my immune system (flipping and kicking enthusiastically), this baby is going to be the toughest little cookie on the block.

Boulette and I

Why am I sharing this tale? This post is a PSA. If you’re thinking of simultaneously launching into pregnancy and daycare adventures, just don’t. Unless you have the disease-fighting abilities of Khan, it’s not worth it!

To make up for this whiny post, here’s a runny-nosed Arthur singing “Clementine”

The end.

Home Sick

This morning, I woke up with a runny nose and a big lump in my throat. After about ten minutes of trying to remember what day it was, I realized I couldn’t face a full day of using my brain. So I called in sick. And then I did what I’m sure every 29-year-old woman does on a sick day; I called my mom.

At this moment, my mother is making what she calls and “immune-boosting” soup with kale and about a dozen onions. I am sitting in front of her fireplace, curled up on her comfiest chair. I look like shit and there’s a big pile of used Kleenex next to me, but it sure beats sitting at home.

A view of the fireplace

Sitting comfortably at my mom’s

Why would I rather be here? Well aside from the obvious nice company, toasty fire and great food, being at my mom’s means not doing housework.

Sitting on my own couch, I can’t help constantly contemplating what task most needs doing in our clunker of a home. There’s the everyday stuff like laundry, raking leaves and cooking. But it’s the once-in-awhile jobs that get me – stuff like sharpening my garden shears and repainting trim. Together, they make my to do list gargantuan.

I have a theory that the constant housework (and stressing about housework yet to be done) has made me ill. I’m literally home sick.

I really don’t know how grownups do the whole homeownership thing and still find time to exercise, go on dates, or call friends. Either they are better, faster and stronger human beings, or I am way more anal than I thought I was. It might be the latter, since JF has actually said the words “you have to lower your standards.”

Perhaps this illness is my body’s way of saying: “slow down – I am going to implode!” or maybe “you should eat better and exercise more!” or even “your house will never look like Elle Décor anyway!” Or maybe it’s just that the flu is going around. Time will tell. In the meantime, I’m going to eat some of my mom’s soup.

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My mom’s immune-boosting soup